


Guardian Angel

by Steroid_Induced_Bear



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Bechdel Test Fail, Character Death, Demons, Gen, Happy Ending, No Sex, Original story and characters, References to Child Abuse, Short Story, but there's a happy ending, cursing, kinda angsty, seedy bars, use of alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 10:06:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14998532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steroid_Induced_Bear/pseuds/Steroid_Induced_Bear
Summary: A demon! A shady bar at the edge of a town! A drunkard barely hanging on to his job! What could possibly go wrong?"Guardian Angel" is a short story that I had originally made for a creative writing class. I really like how it turned out, so I decided to put it out there for the world to see. Sharing this piece is either an absolutely terrible idea, or an amazing one on my part.Constructive criticism is much appreciated!





	Guardian Angel

 

At around the hour of two in the morning, there sat a man on the side of the street. In a drunken stupor, he hobbled away from Slappy’s, a local dive bar. Slappy’s was known for being in the shadier part of town, and it was unclear if they even had a license to sell liquor. However, the cheap booze made it popular among the single middle-aged men, such as the one currently struggling to stand.

With the remainder of his willpower, the older man reached a small apartment complex. He shuffled around in every single pocket on his coat, groping for a key. He was eventually able to muster the fine motor skills to let himself inside the door. He turned on a small television set, and promptly passed out on a worn couch.

The man was awoken from his half-drunk slumber an hour later by the soft voice of a little boy.

“Grandpa?”

He only responded in a groan.

“Grandpa, wake up.”

“Go away you little scamp.”

“But Grandpa, you said we could go to the pier later today.”

“To hell with the goddamn pier, go back to bed.”

“Please, Grandpa?”

“Mallory Gerald Daniels. Go to bed. I’m not asking again.”

Defeated, Mallory retreated to his small closet of a room. The frigid wooden floorboards with blankets and a pillow were barely acceptable sleeping quarters, but they provided more comfort to Mallory than the rough bark of a wasted old man. However, his grandfather’s reaction was still a very mild one compared to his usual yelling and kicking. The pitiful relief his room provided allowed Mallory curl up in the plush blankets and drift into a deep sleep.

 

\--0--0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0-<+>-0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0--0--

 

The sun beamed down into the tiny apartment’s only window. The warm rays fell on the couch and its occupant. Grumbling something about “the goddamn sun” and his “daughter’s little rat,” the old man stood up to draw the curtains shut. 

By the time he walked over to the window, Mallory had bursted into the room. 

“Grandpa, Grandpa! It’s nine o’clock!” he shouted. “What if you’re late for work?”

“Piss off boy, if you know what’s good for you, and let me worry about it myself.”

Mallory fell silent and slinked back to his room. He pulled a chapter book from his shelf, and sat down in the furthermost corner from the door. Mallory fell into the tale of other eight-year-olds living seemingly normal lives. The characters in his stories were only concerned about getting a turn playing four-square, making friends in a new school, or convincing their parents to get a puppy. None of them had been struck bloody by their grandfather. None of them wondered what would have happened if their parents survived a car accident.

 

\--0--0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0-<+>-0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0--0--

 

The older gentleman stormed out of the apartment, on his way to the nearest bus stop. He shoved his way through the crowd, making it to the seat furthest in the back. The bus lurched forward, and it gave the old man a sharp headache.

The old man’s headache worsened as he walked into the auto-shop, as his boss barked out, “Seth, what took you so long? I’d reckon you’d be face-down in a curbside ditch!”

“The little scum was giving me grief again, Mr. Dale.”

“I’m sure he was, Mr. Butcher.” The old man’s superior did not seem particularly convinced.

“It won’t happen again. Honest, boss.”

“You bet your ass it won’t after the conversation we’ll be having today. Get to work.”

The old man, Seth Butcher, hesitated. “Yes, Mr. Dale.”

\--0--0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0-<+>-0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0--0--

 

After spending hours supposedly troubleshooting vehicles that were not actually broken, Seth cautiously walked back to his boss’ office.

“You called for me, sir?”

“Yes. Mr. Butcher, you’ve shown up to the job in complete shambles on multiple occasions. You’ve shown up to the job late.” He continued. “You’ve always got some pathetic excuse. And I’m sick of it.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Dale.. I will be more careful next time.”

“What next time? You’re a burden to the business with all of your dilly-dallying, and you’re harmful to our company’s image when you’re under the influence.”

“I understand, but sir-”

“Go.”

“Mr. Dale, I-”

“I told you to go. Now. Or you won’t get your final paycheck.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and one last thing,” said Leland. “Your child is not scum. The better half and I would do unspeakable things to have a child of our own.”

 

\--0--0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0-<+>-0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0--0--

 

That was it. Seth needed that job to keep himself alive. It was the only way for him to afford rent, and more important necessities, including and mostly limited to alcohol. He knew it had to be his grandson’s fault. If he didn’t have a kid in tow, he surely wouldn’t have been driven to alcohol. If he didn’t have a child to keep alive, he wouldn’t be living in a shoddy little apartment. 

Mallory peered through the peephole in the front door. He knew what he had to do; he had all day to plan, and his chance would be upon him. The second that Seth came into view, Mallory hid under the side-table by the door. Seth trudged in, slamming the door shut and heading straight for the liquor cabinet. Mallory took his chance. He gingerly opened the apartment door. 

The door slowly creaked open with a blood-curdling screech seemingly loud enough to rouse a man from half a mile away.

Seth instantly pivoted back on his right heel, and Mallory ran. Seth chased after him, cursing around the whole block. After ten minutes of cat-and-mouse, Seth grabbed ahold of Mallory’s shoulder.

He dragged Mallory back to the apartment, where he struck Mallory’s cheek.

“Why did you run?”

“I don’t know.”

“Mallory Gerald Daniels, why the hell did you run?”  
“I don’t know!” At this point, Mallory was in tears.

Seth shoved Mallory onto the ground, and kicked his stomach before walking way. Once Seth’s rage had subsided and he believed Mallory had learned a lesson, he left the apartment. He made his way back to Slappy’s, and proceeded to sit down at the bar. After he ordered his first drink, the strangest feeling crept over him. Brushing it off, he continued to drink. He was Slappy’s only customer in the broad daylight, and the room was quiet except for the faint chatter of a radio. The silence was snuffed out from a sudden inquiry.

“I do believe I’ve seen you here before. Something the matter, sugar?” 

Seth turned around in his stool. Standing before him was an awfully tall woman. Something about her seemed uncanny, though he couldn’t lay a finger on it. It couldn’t have been her voice, even if it was quite low. She was in a very formal looking dress for such a run-down bar, but Slappy’s was not unheard of for an ideal date location. She looked almost too perfect for the setting with her glowing face, bright white teeth, and bouncing black hair.

After spending an uncomfortably long time pondering this lady’s question and physical appearance, Seth responded. “Uh… no. I’m fine.”

“I don’t believe you for one second.”

“I don’t care. Leave me alone.”

“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you? Well, I guess I’ll leave such a strong and capable man be. You’ve clearly been working hard.”

The hairs on the back of Seth’s neck stood on end.  _ Is she trying to make me talk? _ he wondered. “Apparently I haven’t been working hard enough.”  _ Shit. Why did I say that? _

“I see. Laid off? The recession’s been taking a toll on everyone.”

“Sure. We’ll go with that.”

The woman leaned on the bar beside him. “If it’s money you need, I have a offer for you. Only if you’re willing to take it on, of course. The drawback is quite off-putting for some men, and-”

“What’s the job?”

“Well… It’s less of a job and more of a promise.”

“That’s fine. What’re you offering?”

“You’re really desperate, huh sugar? What if I told you that you could own one of the nicest houses in town, and have plenty extra for your incidentals?” She rested her chin in the palms of her hands.

It was almost as if this strange lady knew what he needed. “As good as that sounds, what’s the catch?”  
“There’s only two conditions. The first is that you are not to hurt anyone smaller than yourself for one week.” A smirk crept across her face. “The second condition is that if you break that promise, you come with me.”

“What do you mean by that second condition?” Seth wasn’t sure if it was the liquor or the disconcerting offer from this odd woman that made him suspicious.

“Oh, it’s nothing important. It’s more a promise of actual work than anything else. I think a strong man such as yourself will be fine with it.”

“Yeah, all right. Sure. When does this agreement apply?”

“Now, sugar. Here’s your first little payment.” She handed him a bundle of twenty-dollar bills.  “Thank you for your time, and I shall see you in a week.”

Too drunk to fully comprehend the austerity of the situation and its ramifications, Seth headed back to his apartment.

\--0--0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0-<+>-0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0--0--

The following morning, Seth woke up bright and early, albeit a bit sore from drinking. Despite his raging headache, Seth made his way into the kitchen. He pulled out a barely-used skillet from the upper cabinet, as well as some flour and cooking oil. Allowing the pan to preheat on the stove, Seth began to make a thin pancake batter.

Surprisingly pleased with his creation, Seth placed some pancakes on a plate, and called for Mallory. Mallory dashed out of his room, afraid of what his grandfather might do. To his surprise, he arrived to the kitchen to the sweet smell of buttermilk pancakes and warm syrup. 

Mallory quizzically pointed to the plate of pancakes seated at his spot at the table. As soon as Seth gave an approving nod, Mallory dug into the food. He wolfed down his breakfast, completely forgetting about the warm syrup in the middle of the table. The euphoria gained from such unusual treatment kept Mallory going about his day, with not a care in the world.

 

\--0--0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0-<+>-0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0--0--

 

The fresh breakfasts continued for another couple of mornings. In addition, Seth took Mallory to the pier to see the seagulls, asked Mallory how his summer had been going, and other seemingly normal things for a grandfather to do.

Had the kind treatment been as rare as it was before, Mallory would have revelled in every second of it. He loved having genuine company from his grandfather. However, the growing frequency of care set Mallory on edge. There wasn’t any way his grandfather had turned over a new leaf, was there? Why was his grandfather actually acting like a grandfather in such an instance?

 

\--0--0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0-<+>-0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0--0--

 

On the fourth day of that week, Seth knew he wanted to celebrate. He took great pride in other people commenting on how wonderful of a grandfather he must be. He took great pride in Mallory’s apparent trust in him. Most of all, he took great pride in having the funds for his one true love. Seth knew he needed to celebrate with that love of his, and he walked down to the Slappy’s that evening. 

Intoxicated beyond the little rationality he normally had, Seth went back to his apartment. As usual, he stumbled inside and fell onto the couch.

 

\--0--0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0-<+>-0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0--0--

 

Mallory saw his grandfather walk into the living room and collapse on the couch. Not willing to risk a drunken rage, Mallory tip-toed back into his room. His caution was all in vain, for Seth woke up only two minutes after appearing to be asleep.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Seth slurred.

“My room.”

“And what were you doing in the living room?”

“Reading a book, Grandpa.”

“But it’s past your bedtime.” He mumbled.

“I’m sorry. I lost track of time, and-”

Seth grabbed Mallory by his shirt collar. “Listen here you little son of a bitch, you know you’re supposed to be in bed by eight.”

Mallory didn’t move. The cold fear clawed its way all over him. “I’m sorry Grandpa! I didn’t mean to!”

“Sorry doesn’t turn back time, boy.” With his free hand, Seth grabbed a nearby hunting knife off of the end-table. As he was about to pierce Mallory’s delicate skin, there was a thunderous shout.

“You broke your promise, Seth Butcher. Your time has come.”

Caught off-guard, Seth relaxed his grip on Mallory’s collar just enough for him to wriggle free. Seth whipped around with the hunting knife still in hand.

Looming over Seth stood the strange woman from the bar. Her once flawless skin shifted from its former glory into a sickly green, and into a deep violet. The dress she modeled so well tore as her figure grew to a well-muscled frame, and spines began to poke out along her arms and back. Her eyes flicked up, and her pupils were no longer visible. In a hellish wail, she said, “You paid no heed to our contract, Mr. Butcher. As you know, there is a price, and I’ve come to take my toll.”

Seth stood there with his hunting knife gripped tighter than any bottle he had ever gulped dry. He swallowed his fear, and lunged at the demonic entity standing in his apartment. A flash of greenish-white light that was brighter than the sun engulfed the room.

Mallory stood from the hallway, peering around the corner. His grandfather was on the ground, motionless. Standing beside him was a gorgeous woman in formal red dress.

“What just happened? Who are you? What’s going on? Please don’t hurt me.”

“Slow down, sweet child.” said the woman. “Your grandpa is gone now. Who I am is not of importance. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“But- what did you do? Why aren’t you going to hurt me?”

“You did nothing wrong, baby. But you need to make a promise to me, ok?”

“...Ok.”

“Good. I’m going to leave soon. When I do, you need to call an ambulance, and say that your grandfather had a stroke. Do not mention what just happened, and do not say I was ever here, ok?”

“Ok.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

 

\--0--0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0-<+>-0--O--0--0--o--0--0--O--0--0--

 

After hearing of Seth’s passing, Mr. Dale took pity on Mallory. There were relatively daunting challenges with the paperwork, but Mr. Dale and his husband eventually adopted Mallory as their own son. For the first time in his life, Mallory knew what love felt like.

 

He was finally home.


End file.
